Long Black history Poems
Long Black history Poems. Below are the most popular long Black history by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Black history poems by poem length and keyword.
Once I was scourged by the task masters' horse whips;
consigning me for two centuries to servitude.
I had my roots forever erased by forced trips
to worlds unknown, where contemptuous attitude
to my skin colour sure relegated me
to the background of an odious racial caste
system in the occident governed by hate.
The cold snow covered climes of the west I see,
with cotton fields revived, whilst blacks tormented strive
for freedom from slavery's merciless back breaking yoke.
With red scars on weary backs, they fight to survive
the chains and fetters the abolitionists broke,
having their sweat and blood water the cotton fields
which bring bumper harvests to their task masters' guilds.
Hot summers dry up the land
The dirt crumbles under the heaviness of disrespect
Fresh flowers adorn the land
Covering the uneven burial grounds
Overshadowed by privilege
What better way to claim superiority
By soiling the plantation they stand on
Ignorance crowds the air
Cast aside by vows of love
Tainting history with a wedding
The stories of black labour whitewashed into a picture of a bride in white
Covering the truths in a veil of fragility
Ironic how they use the innocence of a white wedding
To ink over history
A picture is worth a thousand words
A simple picture of a now conjoined family
Haunted by secrets of ownership
How the brides grandmother was once a girl
Who stood on this same plantation
Watching her parents become slave owners
A simple picture
Once innocent becomes a sinister backstory
A history haunted by the darkness of whiteness
Flower petals spread across the venue of black bones
Not to pay respect to those buried
But to honour love consummated on the grounds of black history
Smiling in pictures with a tainted memory
Plastered in magazines profiting off of slavery
But hey at least they gained popularity
Dixie Born,
Black History Month 2017
Curtis Johnson
Dear Delta Dixie:
In the late summer of 1949, I was born just off highway 49 not far from your mighty waters.
I moved away in 1967, and was ashamed and embarrassed to be native born within your borders.
In my early years, I learned to read, write, and do arithmetic in your segregated schools.
In my father’s garden, at a very young age, I learned how to plow with a mule.
In the nearest city, I also learned how to sell a new pair of shoes.
For 17 years, your unjust laws oppressed me.
For 17 years, your non-golden rules depressed me.
For 17 years, your social orders stuck to me like glue.
It does not surprise me that you also gave birth to the blues.
In the mid 70’s I was invited by a friend to visit a church he attends.
I was Black and he was White, with no intentions to offend.
The next day my friend’s pastor called to tell me the news.
The reason was not that I had not paid any church dues.
But never was I to return again to sit in his church pews.
I was a Christian just like him,
but I was not welcome to sit in his pews.
Christ had paid for all my sins; but in his church, perhaps that payment was not enough to cover my sins.
Oh Delta Dixie, I have come to terms with you.
It’s been said that home is where your story begins.
And many are my treasured stories born in Delta Dixie.
It was long ago that I overcame the embarrassment.
The Grace of God ushered me over all the pain and shame.
And I have long since forgiven you, just as Christ has forgiven me.
02152017 cj PS
The roots of our trees poisoned
The fruits of our labour rotted
In the middle of this the core slowly falls apart,
A reminder of what has been tarnished -
What is now lost
The others flourish, growing until the rot is forgotten
It becomes erased, disappearing until invisible
The story of an ancestry fallen
Admist the extinction of something so significant
The world continues to move on
More trees planted, even stronger -
To keep the damage, forever hidden
A history cut short, now a distant memory -
So far
Why would one tree poisoned,
Why does one tree matter
The answer -
It was different
It carried great power
It was blessed by the moon and stars
It was favoured by elemental nature
And to those that were envious, felt inferior
A tree that held the knowledge of the world
But still managed to be humble
It carried the weight of progression,
Even invention
The land surrounding, belonged to it
Filled with wealth and riches, infinite,
Yet the trees around it performative
Claiming to protect -
But for the safety of themselves, choose to betray it to the enemy
Stripped of its bark
Ridden of its fruit
Separated of its roots
Stolen of its identity
And buried under the weight of the enemy's jealousy and hate
And if you haven't figured out who is the tree
It represents the colonialism and erasure of black history
Born, slave or free, nobody's property; a "P"(purpose) and a "D'(destiny) are stamped within. Letters they are, but so much more and nevermore to be set aside nor ever erased in me. A human tragedy that began in the far reaches of civilization still remains with little change. "C" words like class, caste, color, cruelty, control, corruption, and confusion are ALL locked deep inside the darkened cave of the heart of man. Kindred kinds or diversities make no difference when ALL are born depraved, deprived, and disconnected from God.
Heaven is ready to forgive and recognize ALL, and whether civil or otherwise, both are lost. In every generation, there have been traces of jubilation that never enabled a halt of human destruction. Stories of hate and warfare, pain and sorrow, line the beaches, caves, and mountainsides. Today shall also pass with broken promises, torn treaties, with more of the same tomorrow.
Oppression appears to be the ultimate obsession that eventually leads to human annihilation. Religions have proven to be little help to the human condition and often have brought more pain. Yearning inside of ALL mankind is that God-implanted longing to belong to the Most High God.
Mankind of ALL stripes, even the enemies of liberty, are longing to be free.
Opportunities throughout the centuries have continued to knock and
neutrality, serving no nullifying purpose, has never been a good option.
Tear down these walls, someone once said, and now they no longer stand.
History only repeats when we refuse to learn the lessons it tries to teach.
Refusing the lessons that history tries to teach leaves us only to weep.
02142019MTFBPoSoup
Eight years ago, I was inspired by Black History Month
to write these few lines as my contribution. The longings
and aspirations of any people demand that the primary
focus be prayer. So, in commemoration of Black History
Month 2024, again, I offer this prayer:
Dear God:
May this generation of Black Americans
never lose the knowledge of OUR Father God.
May WE ever believe, retain, and refer to the
two great documents of the Bible and the
U.S. Constitution.
May WE determine to keep the focus on OUR sacred
teachings about God, family, church, and country.
May WE never submit to a mentality of dependency
upon OUR government.
May WE ever strive to contribute OUR talents
and challenge OUR country to Excellency.
Let US never lose sight of the dreams
and aspirations of OUR forefathers.
Let US never forget the price paid for OUR
present freedom and prosperity.
Let US remember that OUR deceased loved ones
are like a cloud of witnesses.
Let US always believe, like prior generations,
that WE too can overcome anything.
And let US, like prior generations, pick OUR peak
and climb, ever-ascending, never quitting.
In the name of OUR Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Written By: D. Collins 2/15/24
To me, red, black, and green means.....
Black blood embedded all over the earth.
There has never been any who have actually seen.
Being used as a tool with free, yeoman's work.
I put this to paper just in case people forgot.
I've been around a while, and have seen a lot.
So, I'm qualified to give the downright-nitty-gritty.
And, contribute my version of Black History.
It's still bad in Compton, where I was born.
Beaucoup years after Katrina N.O. still ain't home.
There are states removing us from history books.
Now, you tell me, who are the real crooks?
As February hands the reins to March we turn our attention to women’s history…
We celebrate their contributions of our culture…to our society.
This poem is written for the men…because women you already know…by far…
In fact you’ve known throughout our history just how awesome you all are.
Yes, men…this month is our chance…a chance for fools like me and you…
to celebrate…and marvel…at all the things that women do!
Start to make a list…trust me you’ll stop when your hand turns blue….
Let’s just say there’s nothing…nothing in this world…that women cannot do!
If there’s a job that needs completed…we know a woman can…
accomplish it much faster…more efficiently and always better than a man.
Any many who thinks he is superior to a women…
be they his friend, his colleague…his wife…
should remember on top of everything else they do…they give birth to life.
Women should be role models for fools like me and you…
because…and this bears repeating…there is nothing they can’t do!
Women are intelligent, wise, courageous, empathetic…self-confident…and strong….
and just like with Black history….we celebrate them all month long…
And though I’m glad we take a month to celebrate their contributions throughout history…as I sit here writing this poem…this thought occurred to me:
We set aside a month each year to celebrate our diversity…
Black, Women, Asian, Hispanic Disabled, Native American…gay….
I pray they’ll come a time when we don’t need a month…
because we celebrate everybody…everyday.
Black History Month began as "***** History Week"
Our holiday was adopted at a time when the country was bleak
Created in 1926 by noted African American Historian, Carter G. Woodson
Today, we celebrate the "Congressional Gold Medal" of Eugene Goodman
It became a month-long celebration in February 1976
To celebrate the birthdays of Frederick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln
Black History Month honors the contributions of African Americans
The historical contributions of Barack Obama and Kamala Harris
They deserve recognition because of their contributory impact on the nation
Another Black History Month contribution by Frank Wills from Watergate
The Security Guard was forever ostracized, because he didn't hesitate
It's time to speak the unvarnished truth,
and to do so as often and loudly as we can
I recall the fear and prejudice that were expressed by many
How do we confront this virus of injustice?
We must speak truth to power.
The burden of confronting injustice and racism
Must not be viewed through rose colored negativism
Hold accountable those who prey on black people's fears
And biases with lies, conspiracies, and tears
We must speak out forcefully and act with conviction
We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality
Tied in a single garment of destiny
Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly
Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere
Author: Floyd Neal
Date: February 13, 2021
Inspiration: Black History Month
From chains to crowns, from sorrow to song,
A person risen, unbroken, strong.
Through storms and trials, through fire and night,
They carried their truth, their voice, their light.
History speaks in the rhythm of drums,
In freedom’s march, in the dream that comes.
From whispered prayers to banners unfurled,
Black hands have shaped and blessed the world.
Roots run deep through struggle and pain,
Yet blossoms of hope still break the chain.
In every stride, in every name,
Lives the unyielding, eternal flame.
Stand tall in power, in dignity wide,
Stand with your ancestors, walk in their pride.
For Black history lives, not just in the past,
But a story of triumph, unshaken, steadfast.